Finding Us
by CierraEnglish
Summary: When John starts being more distant, Sherlock thinks he knows the problem. But when he tries to fix it, things go wrong. Will John find Sherlock to explain, or will something horrible happen before he can? *Pleeease read, its my first story and I suck at summaries. Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock, or BBC. Review please :) Rated M caused Im paranoid.


Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock, or any of the characters.  
Enjoy! The line breaks represent POV change, the only povs are John and Sherlock, starting with Sherlock. Rated M cause I'm paranoid.

"I'm going out."  
"Now? John, I thought we go could visit the fiance for the details of the burglars last appearance."  
Why has he been leaving so frequently recently? I probably did or said something that caused a red flag in his mind. He's being arriving home at the normal time, so surgery must'n be the problem.  
"I'm sure you will be fine without me." he murmured.  
"You know John, I do enjoy someone to talk to and refer my thoughts to, what has been so important recently that has been causing your absence?" I questioned. I walked into the sitting area to see him standing there with his coat barley on, if he wanted to leave as bad as he's displaying, he isn't doing a well job at it.  
"I just have to go Sherlock, please do go talk to the fiance." he replied, smiled and then just walked out.  
I sighed. I feel as if I've been talking more than usual to John when he's not here, then when he is. I grabbed my violin and started practicing a tune I thought reminded me of him. Just then, a thought captured my attention. No, no that's not it. John's not trying to distract himself from me. But he has shown less care than usual in my routine, he hasn't badgered me on my sleeping deprivation or my eating. I sort of miss someone taking an interest. Sentiment Sherlock, stop, it's not something that's going to is it only towards John anyways?

I just had to get out again. Watching him move around the kitchen with such focus was too much. I felt the blush creep up my neck, and I definatley didn't want him noticing if he hadn't already.  
I got a cab and went to Angelos. He asked where Sherlock was and I just made up a lame excuse that he's very focused on a new case. Thankfully he honestly didn't care that much and gave me a table. As I waited for my food, I thought of Sherlock. Of course, he noticed my leaving, why wouldn't he? I had no idea what to tell him. 'Oh yeah, I've noticed I'm having feelings for my bestfriend and I'm trying to not act upon them, hah funny right?' He'd probably wouldn't he even glance at me, just explain to me sentiment is a chemical imbalance and I'm only making up this want for him. I ate my food, and decided to walk home to try to get my mind off this. Hopefully he won't question me again, he's probably forgot all about it by now, and is sitting in his chair lost in his mind.  
I walked up the steps and opened the door, as I went to turn around to shut it, a large hand slammed it shut, and gripped my jumper forcing me to turn around. My heart started racing, I was about to scream, when I was turned around and a pair of familiar lips were crashed down on mine. I opened my eyes, and what? Sherlock? No this can't be, why is he doing this? I didn't know how to react, so I slightly pushed him away, forcing him to look at me. Not expecting to see something so unusual in his eyes, fear, hurt?

Oh no, have I read this incorrectly? His face is full of shock, which is what I expected, but he hasn't said anything. "John.." I breathed. Please understand.  
"Sh-Sherlock...what was that?" He was still shaking slightly, but if he had a negative reaction, my face probably would have been punched by now.  
"I kissed you, John."  
"Why Sherlock? Is this some kind of joke? Am I just being used as another experiment?" His voice has slightly risen.  
I honestly have no idea what to say to him. Maybe this is why I never felt an attachment was required, I don't know how to act upon them. "I..John.. y-you have to.." I whispered.  
"I what Sherlock?" Not good, he's angry now.  
I panic and ran out the door. I didn't even grab my coat or put on my scarf. I didn't know how to face him, I was unprepared. I didn't get a cab, I just kept walking and walking.

Oh bloody hell, what just happened? Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes, the world's only Consulting Detective, who has never had an attachment or feeling of sentiment of any kind, just kissed me. Kissed me. God, why am I such an idiot? Sherlock has felt the same way as I, and I've been completely oblivious. Hell, I have to go find him. I didn't hear a cab pulled up so he must have walked meaning he isn't far ahead. I grabbed my jacket and ran down the steps. I flung the door open and just kept running, scanning everywhere I look for any glimpse of him. I ran through the park, thinking he'd stopped there but no signs of him. I ran down an unknown street and made a left, passing an alleyway. I was about to run past it when I heard moaning. Not thinking anything of it, I was about to start running again when I heard a faint "John.."

I opened my eyes, and I instantly felt a wrath of pain wash all over my body. Where am I, and why do the lights have to be so bright? I look around but everything is blurry, I have a needle in my arm, and I'm wearing something very loosely.. okay, why am I in a hospital? The last thing I remember is working on an experiment in the kitchen, but nothing that would cause me to be ill. As my senses start to regain, I feel someone holding my hand. I turn my head, and blink a few times.  
John.  
Why is he crying? What did I get myself into? His shirt is messed and untidy, still in the same clothes as I last saw him. His forehead is against our joined hands and I can feel the tears slithering down my wrist.  
"Please, don't take him. Sherlock you can't leave me now, just stop this, you're going to be okay." He's repeating these requests, not knowing I have awoken.  
"John... why am I here, I just was in the kitchen a moment ago."  
He jumped, obviously startled as relief appeared on his face. He started stroking my hand with his thumb.  
"Oh Sherlock, you were attack. Someone pulled you into an alley and stole your phone, your wallet and beat you pretty bad. You've been out for about 12 hours now. The doctor says you should be fine." He started to gently sob as he explained.  
"Why was I out? I'm telling you there's been a mistake I was just in the..." I stopped mid-sentence, my eyes widening with acknowledgment, finally all the events of the past day replaying in my mind, flash backing to the reason I had to leave."John, I'm terribly sorry, please excuse my-"  
"No Sherlock, don't explain yourself. This is all my fault. I'm so sorry, I didn't know what to think when you kissed me, I thought you were just using me, as a toy or as an experiment. I found you...lying on the cold ground, your eyes barley open. The blood...it...it was everywhere...Sherlock you said my name very quietly before you fell unconscious..." He started shaking violently now.  
"John, I'm fine. Please continue, I must know."  
He nodded, and said "I just held you there on the ground while I waited for the ambulance. They brought you here and had to put you in a medically induced coma, while they checked out all of your organs. You should make a full recover in about a week...Sherlock I'm sorry you have to understand I never meant for you to leave or misjudge my reacti-"  
"I love you."  
He stopped and stared at me. What seemed like forever he finally choked out "Wh-what?"  
"John, I never meant for you to misinterpret my approach at showing you that I do care, and how it horribly upsets me when you leave for so long. I...I just felt like I misread all of the signals wrong when you pushed me away and began getting angry, so I just walked out, I was so confused and-" I was cut off as John leant down and kissed me.  
"Sh, my love, it's all over now. You need to rest. Are you tired?" He asked.  
"Mmmmmm."  
"Go to sleep, I promise I will be here waiting for you."  
"Alright."  
"Oh and Sherlock, I love you too." That was the last I heard, before sleep took over me.

Sherlock was discharged from the hospital about a week after the incident. More than ready to get home. He wasn't the most patience patient. I got us a cab and helped him in. We were quiet on the way home, I was staring out the window as he watched me. We went upstairs when we arrived and he went and laid on the couch. I made us each a cuppa and set them on the coffee table. I walked over and held his head up, sat down, and put his head back down on his lap. I started massaging his scalp and playing with his curls as he purred. "Are you feeling alright?" I asked him.  
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you for the tea."  
I hummed my welcome, and we just laid there, me running my fingers through his hair, him breathing with his eyes closed. I thought he had fallen asleep, until he suddenly asked, "What do you make of us, John?"  
I was shocked, definatly not expecting that. " I think of us as, us, my love. We're our own unique selves, coming together as one."  
He kissed my thigh and grabbed my hand and led me to his bedroom. He stripped of his clothes and I did the same. We crawled into his bed, his head laying on my chest. I started stroking his hair again.  
"John?"  
"Yes, Sherlock?"  
"I want you to stay in here with me from now on, if it's not too much to ask."  
I chuckled, "Nothing is ever too much, love."  
He then started tracing circles on my chest, and we quietly drifted to sleep, basking in the joy of each others presence.


End file.
